Let a Man Be a Man
by Jack of the North
Summary: Hermione has a favour to ask George but he'll need some convincing. Pregnancy, AU, Fred alive. I have babies on the brain, sorry :p
1. Chapter 1

The quiet Muggle cafe Hermione Granger had decided on for this particular meeting now seemed completely wrong. The few Muggles in the cafe shot her sympathetic glances as she repeatedly checked her watch.

_They thought I've been stood up,_ Hermione thought to herself. As she glanced at her watch again she almost wished that was the case, but it wasn't. She knew her date far too well to be worried after only ten minutes of waiting past the appointed meeting time. Date might not have been the right word. But it would have to do. The alternative was donor and she was forcing herself not to think about that yet.

She took a deep calming breath as doubts came flooding in. She was crazy to be doing this. He would laugh at her and think it was a huge joke his brother had put her up to. Or worse, he would think she was serious and let her down gently, sweetly. She knew he could be kind when he put his mind to it.

_What if he agreed? _ The thought terrified her even though that was the end goal.

_What if he agreed!_ her mind screamed.

It had seemed like a very viable option when she had very logically listed the pros and cons, poured over all the options for weeks. Spent hours agonising just who her chosen _victim_ would be. When she had finally settled on him, relief had coursed through her veins and she refused to give it a second thought. Refused to entertain any doubts that maybe he might not be the right choice. She knew when she made it that it wasn't the right choice, but it was the best.

_Wasn't it?_

"Hermione, sorry I'm late."

Hermione looked up to see George Weasley motioning the waitress for a coffee. Her breathing picked up tenfold and sweat broke out all over her body. She snatched up her napkin and hastily wiped her hands under the table as George took a seat.

He folded his tall lean body into the chair across from her, his red hair catching the sunlight that poured in through the glass walls of the cafe like a halo around his head. Hermione almost groaned, he was so beautiful it was almost painful to look at.

George's looks definitely factored into her decision making, though she would deny it if she was ever asked. Hopefully, no one would ever ask.

"So, what can I do for you, Hermione? I'm sure you didn't just invite me out to chat." He smiled and Hermione ignored the coil of tension in her stomach. She deliberately pushed it aside and pulled courage from God only knew where.

After a deep, calming breath she began, "I'm twenty-seven years old."

George nodded. He and Fred had thrown her a surprise party for her birthday only three weeks ago.

"I'm twenty-seven," she repeated, "and I have a successful career, I own my home and could easily take a couple of years off to travel. Experience the world."

George nodded, listening intently.

"I don't want to travel. I had my fill of it a decade ago."

They both winced, thinking back to that horror year that ended with the Battle of Hogwarts, the one that had nearly cost Fred his life.

"I'm quite content to stay in our little corner of the world and just really live my life." Hermione laughed awkwardly. "Harry and Ginny have their son, Ron just got engaged and I feel like I've spent the last ten years trying to be," Hermione took a deep breath, shaking her head. "Trying to be the person I had _planned_ to be."

George smiled sympathetically. She hadn't seen him this serious in years, if she had ever even seen him this serious. He tilted his head to the side and his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"So, what can I do for you, Hermione?"

The words stuck in her throat and she cleared it a few times before she could finally force them out.

"I want you to give me a baby."

George laughed and Hermione's heart plummeted. Her face burned bright red and her eyes dropped to her lap. The napkin she had grabbed earlier was shredded in her lap. The light blue pieces contrasted prettily against the deep violet of her skirt.

"What, do you want me to steal you one?" George laughed, missing the point entirely.

Tears stung Hermione's eyes as humiliation washed over her, burning her skin from her toes to the top of her head.

"Maybe Harry and Ginny will give you theirs," he chortled, drawing the attention of the other patrons.

"Stop it, please," Hermione said quietly, swiping at the tears that escaped despite her determination to keep them at bay. "Just stop."

George's laughs quietened as he took in Hermione's wet, red face, her drooping shoulders and her downcast eyes.

"That's not what you meant at all, is it?" he asked, reaching for her hand. Hermione snatched it away.

"Here's your coffee," the waitress said, placing George's coffee on the table in front of him. Her curious eyes darted between the two of them but George just smiled politely and she soon returned to her work.

"I don't understand," George said after he'd taken a fortifying swallow of his coffee. "When you say you want me to give you a baby you mean you want me to..."

"Make a baby. With me." Hermione twisted her watch around on her wrist, looking anywhere but him. "Please," she added as an afterthought, earning a wry smile from George's suddenly pale face.

"I – this – it's a lot to take in." He ran a hair through his hair, exhaling a deep breath.

"I know," Hermione said quietly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it's not fair of me but I just didn't want it to be some nameless, faceless stranger. I want my baby to have a mother and a father. I'm not so new age that I think a child doesn't need a man's influence."

"Hermione – " George started but she talked over him.

"Please, don't say anything now, just don't. Take a few days and think about it. I'll accept a no and not mention it again but as your friend I think I deserve to have you seriously consider this."

George stared at her, incredulous. "You deserve? You deserve?" He whispered angrily, suddenly very mindful of the fellow diners. "I deserve to not have to make this kind of decision, Hermione. I deserve to not have friends who are completely selfish."

Hermione's bottom lip trembled as guilt flooded through her. "I'm sorry."

George huffed out a breath and took another sip of coffee. He was unreasonable angry, more than the situation warranted but he couldn't stop himself.

"What makes you think that I would be interested in becoming a father? Have I ever said or done anything to make you think that I would be? I'm not, okay? I don't want this, I'm not interested. I don't want any of this."

He stood up and grabbed up his coat from the back of the chair. Hermione nodded, swiping at a few more stray tears.

"No, of course not, I'm sorry for asking. I won't, again." She took a deep breath and forced herself to look up at him. "Thanks for coming."

George said nothing more. He reached into his pocket and threw some money on the table before storming out the door. Hermione quickly added the cost of her own drink, retrieved her things and hurried out the door. George was nowhere in sight. Ashamed, Hermione turned towards the nearest ally and once safely hidden from the public, Apparated home.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! _

_Some of you were angry at Hermione, some at George, but either way I hope you like this next chapter._

* * *

"What did Hermione want?" Fred asked as George swept past him to the back rooms of their Diagon Alley store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George ignored him, slamming the door to his private office behind him. He once shared an office with Fred, back when they had opened their first WWW store. But now, over a decade later, they had warehouses for testing and storage, and the rooms that were once used for that purpose at the back of the shop had been converted into luxurious office space, one for each of them. The small flat upstairs that the twins had shared when they first moved out of home was now used to invent products. The wards were infamously fierce and it was more than one competitor who had found themselves naked in the Simpson Desert in the Australian outback, wandless, with nothing but a tent with a single bottle of water to provide shelter until Fred or George would come deal with them.

But George wasn't marvelling over how far he and his brother had come, he was still fuming at Hermione. Anticipating his brother's invasion, he waved his wand and muttered a locking charm. Fred knew how to break it, but he also knew George only used it when he did not want to be disturbed. George knew Fred would be bursting with curiosity on the other side of the door as the brothers kept very little from each other but he could not talk to Fred about this right now.

He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He didn't want to think about why he was so angry but the memories flooded him, unwanted and unbidden, but unstoppable.

It was nearly three years ago when he had broken up with Lavender Brown, a stupid spiteful affair he'd engaged in to rankle Ron. Ron had just started dating Katie Bell, who George had had a mild flirtation with in his early twenties. That Ron had just proposed to Katie last week made George's recollection of the memories all the more shameful.

After about six weeks, Ron and Katie were obviously well suited and he didn't care at all that his elder brother was dating his ex. In fact, Ron wouldn't have cared if George had hooked up with every one of his youthful indiscretions of the female persuasion; and after the Battle of Hogwarts, there were many. He was falling in love with Katie, and was blind to all else.

So George had broken up with the intense brunette, glad to see the back of her and her weird sexual habits. Lavender had thrown the expected tantrum, called him all the usual names and stormed out, threatening that he'd not seen the last her. George had rolled his eyes, thrown out the underwear she had left in his bathroom and continued on with his life.

He'd not given her a second thought until three weeks later when she'd tearfully shown up on his doorstep, claiming to be pregnant with his child. He'd freaked out, locking himself in his office for a week, debating between doing the honourable thing and marrying Lavender, though he shuddered at the thought, or moving to Alaska. He'd settled on an unhappy medium – having Lavender move in with him, into the spare room. He'd gone out with Fred for one last blowout before impending fatherhood and ran into Lavender. She'd been drunk, hanging off an uncomfortable looking young man and boasting about how she had landed a Weasley and that there wasn't even a baby.

George had stared at her coldly until one by one, the other patrons of the Hogs Head had fallen silent as they caught sight of George. Lavender had been the last to see him and had paled when she took in his thunderous expression. She'd attempted to backtrack, tripping over herself as she desperately tried to keep a hold of her ticket to the good life.

"Save it," he had said, cutting her off. "You and the other bitches like you will never again trap me with a child, fictitious or otherwise. Your pathetic Lavender, I'd be surprised if any wizard would have you now."

Geroge had turned and walked out, not looking back, and as far as the wizarding world knew, he'd never dated another witch again. He hadn't. He'd had a few very discreet affairs with muggle women, of course never revealing what he was and had never trusted the women he bedded again.

George groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. He had never thought he would have to worry about that sort of thing from Hermione's direction. Not that it was really the same situation. It was a very very different situation but he still felt the same bands of duty and responsibility tighten around his chest. Why was she doing this to him? It's not like she wouldn't know the story, everyone knew the story. He was at a loss as to how she had even ended up with him as her choice for a sperm donor. Or father.

_Goodness,_ he thought to himself, _how could she possibly think that _he _would make a good father. _When little kids would ask him for help when he worked at the store, he would always direct them to another employee. His nieces and nephews were cute but best left in the nursery. When he thought that Lavender was carrying his child he spent a terrified week imaging all the possibilities including him dropping the baby, leaving it where it could get into fireworks or some such thing. But never in all his imaginings did he see himself as a doting dad, lovingly bathing a ginger haired baby, teaching a son or daughter to fly or their first tentative spells. Happiness, excitement, joy were none of the experienced emotions. Even when he made his decision to ask Lavender to move in, he'd done it with reluctance and a heavy heart.

He was not father material.

Guilt washed over him as the memory of Hermione's crumpled face appeared in his mind. He'd acted like a real git and he knew it. He'd reacted instinctively and probably destroyed an important friendship in the process. But why, _why, _had she asked him to be the father of her baby?

He shot to his feet and moved to open the door. "Fred!" he bellowed before sitting behind his desk again. He needed a second opinion and who knew Hermione better then Fred? As Harry and Ron had drifted towards Ginny and Katie in a romantic way, Fred and Hermione had formed and unexpected friendship and spent all their free time together. Most people mistakenly thought they were dating.

"Did you know about this?" George demanded when Fred entered the room, closing the door behind him with a flick of his wand.

Fred winced, betraying himself.

"Why? Why would you not tell me? Why would you encourage her? Why the hell did you two cook up this little scheme where I am to provide my services like bull when you could just as easily have done it? I demand answers, Fred!" He banged his fist on the desk, emphasising his point.

"I didn't know she was going to chose you. In fact, when we were talking about it the other day, your name wasn't even mentioned as a possibility. But all that aside, did you ask Hermione why she chose you? No, I bet you ranted and raved and didn't even give her the chance."

George didn't say anything in response but his flushed cheeks were telling.

"Talk to her, George. I've never see Hermione want anything like she wants this baby. She's not Lavender. You know this. Take a couple of days to think about it before you dismiss the idea entirely. Someone's got to pass on our amazing genes, and it's not going to be me."

George smiled wryly. "Just as likely you then it is me, Fred."

"Don't be stupid, George. No woman wants a war hero when they realise his injuries mean he can't fuck." Without another word, Fred turned around and limped out, leaving his brother to his musings.

George dropped his head to his desk and banged it lightly a couple of times against the solid wooden surface. He wondered how many more friendships he could damage in one day.


	3. Chapter 3

Fred smiled politely to the customers who recognised him as he limped as fast as he could to Florish and Botts. He knew Hermione would be feeling awful and nothing cheered her up as much as a new book. He should know. During the length of their unusual friendship Fred had put his proverbial foot in it more then once. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes accidentally but always utterly and completely. So he'd figured out long ago what worked and what didn't. She wasn't moved by flowers, chocolates or pretty baubles. Nice dinners and fancy desserts didn't move her. But offer her a book wrapped in plain brown paper and, if it was the right book, she would fall at your feet. He didn't think it would cheer her up any this time, but it would make her smile, if only for a moment and that was worth this hurried trip before going to see her.

He scanned the new arrivals shelves, quickly selecting one he thought she would like and lined up behind the only other customer. It took him a moment standing behind her before he realised his destination was actually right in front of him.

"Hermione?"

Hermione squealed and turned on the spot until she came face to face with Fred. Her face showed horror for a split second before she registered who it was standing in front of her. Then her face crumpled and tears quickly filled her already red-rimmed eyes.

"Oh, Fred. I was such an idiot," she stated before falling against his chest. Fred enveloped her in his arms and tried to pay attention as the elderly witch behind the counter bagged their purchases, promising to put them on their individual accounts. Fred smiled tightly, not wanting to be rude all the while Hermione wept into his robes. He'd never seen her lose control like this. It almost scared him. He was eventually able to escape the shop and guided her out onto the street.

"I - I thought some reading would take my mind off it." Hermione hiccupped, oblivious to the curious looks they were receiving. "You've spoken to him, I guess. I'm so embarrassed."

Fred led her to a small, out of the way café at the end of Diagon Alley all the while mentally cursing his brother, his injuries and life itself. They used to come here often but hadn't been here since the year before. While Hermione wept, relaying her meeting with his brother through her tears Fred contemplated the complete injustice of it all.

There was nothing he wouldn't give to be able to give a child to Hermione. He loved her so much. Sometimes he thought it was romantic but at the end of the day he knew it wasn't. She was just the best friend he'd ever had, second only to his twin.

It all came back to the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione was the one who had found him, crushed beneath the rubble they thought had killed him. She was the one who had worked frantically over his body, drawing on every last healing spell in her memory until help came. He would forever remember awaking, sight and hearing slowly returning, to Hermione hovering over him. In his nightmares he could still hear her screaming for help, begging for someone to find a Healer. He owed her his life and his impotence. As brilliant as she was, her medical knowledge was limited and her crude spells kept him alive and began the healing process. A process that couldn't be reversed and consequently led to his weak muscles in his left leg and the inability to maintain an erection.

But without Hermione he'd be dead. It was a simple as that. He couldn't be angry with her, though in the beginning Merlin knew he'd tried. He'd wanted to be angry at her, angry that she hadn't known more, done better. But when he'd raved at her, she'd simply raved back. When he'd refused to let his mother in to nurse him, she'd simple brought down his wards and stomped all over his objections. She'd been through hell too and downright refused to let him be anything but grateful. Their friendship had grown, bloomed until they were nearly inseparable. Hermione had begged Fred to let her take him to a Muggle doctor but he'd refused. He couldn't see how Hermione's science could fix something magic couldn't.

His attention was dragged fully back to the present as the waitress approached. A pretty blonde witch in her early twenties, she'd been the star of more then one inappropriate dream and Fred suddenly remembered why he hadn't been here in nearly a year. There was nothing like seeing the object of your fantasies every other day when there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

She smiled sympathetically at them and asked if they'd like their usual order.

"Two Turkish coffees and half a dozen almond cookies?" she asked, giving Fred a flirty smile. He nodded and she hurried off to start the long brewing process for the coffees.

"I've completely mucked everything up," Hermione said, drawing his gaze back to her. "What was I thinking? Apparently I was determined to be a complete _dickhead_." She whispered this last word, eliciting a small smile from Fred.

"You weren't a _dickhead," _he whispered, nudging her knee with his, earning a watery smile in return. "But I think you should have your head checked. George? What _were _you thinking, Hermione? This choice, of all of them, you should have talked to me about."

"I know, I just made the choice, owled him and then refused to think about it for the last couple of days." She sighed heavily, her chin trembling, her eyes darting around, looking for witnesses to her humiliation. "I want this so bad, Fred and he seemed …"

"To be the answer for what I can't give you?" When she'd first confessed her plans to Fred and let him see her folder of candidates, she'd hurriedly ripped one out as they were going through it. She'd tossed it in the bin but when she'd gone to the bathroom later in the night, he'd fished it out, being a terrible friend in the process. What he'd seen had broken his heart. He'd thought the missing profile might have been Harry or one of his brothers but it wasn't. It was his. His pro list was by far longer then any of the other's she'd composed.

Now, Hermione opened her mouth to deny him, but her blush was telling.

"No, yes, I don't know. Not just you, I mean George in his own right had a pretty impressive pro list. He's you but he's his own person and he's not my best mate. I know you found my list for you but even if I hadn't castrated you I could never had asked that of you." Hermione had no problem taking about his problem and usually it didn't bother him but he was feeling pretty sensitive to it since she started her baby crusade, today especially. His pride was wounded.

Hermione buried her face in her hands and groaned.

"I'm so confused, Fred. I've stuffed everything up so badly. He's going to hate me forever."

Shaking off his own hurt, Fred belatedly fished out his handkerchief and offered it to Hermione.

"Not forever and he doesn't hate you. Its not even about you, it's just brought all the Lavender shit up again."

Hermione's stricken look was very telling.

"Oh, God. I didn't even think of that. I'm a complete moron. Take me to Saint Mungo's, please, I obviously need an assessment."

She rose and Fred laughed, pulling her back to her seat.

"Stop. You went about this completely backwards but trust me, I know my brother and this is all completely salvageable. He doesn't take unexpected news well. He just needs a couple of days to adjust and then we can start."

She blew her nose noisily and sighed wearily. "Start what?"

"Our campaign to get George into your bed."

Hermione blushed. "I don't want him in my bed. I want his sperm in my egg."

"Gross." He loved Hermione but that was too much information. "But whatever. We'll get him."

"No, just forget it, Fred. Please? Just don't mention it again," Hermione begged him. He nodded but his mind was already speeding ahead, making plans, composing conversation. He couldn't give Hermione a baby himself, but if there was a chance he could set this up for her, he would. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed right that his brother and his best friend be together. They were complete opposites but both completely brilliant. They would challenge each other, never tire of the other.

Hermione could deny it all she wanted but there were five blokes he could think of off the top of his head that would make a better father then George, as much as he loved him and there was a reason she had chosen him. And he had a sneaking suspicion just what that reason was. Maybe Fred's list was never actually about Fred. Maybe it was always about George.


	4. Chapter 4

"This is a horrible idea and I refuse to have anything to do with it," Fred whispered furiously. They were sitting in a doctor's waiting room. A doctor's, not a healers. Hermione had tricked him into coming, claiming she needed moral support for a fertility appointment. But they'd walked pass the waiting room full of pregnant women straight down the hall to the room full of uncomfortable looking men.

"They can help, you'll see," Hermione had said and had told the receptionist that Fred Weasley was here to see Dr Bhair.

"I told you, I don't want to see a Muggle doctor. Nothing good can come from this. Doctor's are butchers, always wanting to cut a person open." Hermione shushed him as his rant earned odd looks from the other patients.

"May I remind you that my parents are doctors? And that you were happy to go see them last year?"

"They're dentists, Hermione. They are teeth doctors, it hardly counts. Besides, they weren't poking around my dick!"

"Fred Weasley?" A young blond women stood in the doorway to one of the examination rooms. Hermione rose, pulling Fred up with her. Fred contemplated planting his feet and refusing to move but he wasn't convinced Hermione wouldn't dip her hand into her handbag and hex him into compliance.

Sighing, he followed what he presumed was the nurse into the room. He almost turned around and walked straight back out when he realised the blond wasn't the nurse, she was the doctor.

"No, Hemione, no. I can't do this." He tried to plead one last time but Hermione ignored him, taking a seat and indicating that Fred should take the one closest to the desk. In one corner of the room was a screened changing area, an odd bed sat in another corner. Lots of ominous looking medical equipment dotted the room.

"So Fred, Hermione tells my husband that you two are looking for a sperm donor because your impotent, is this correct?" Dr Bhair waited expectantly for Fred to answer, a notepad open before her, her pen poised.

"That's right, he was injured in a fire, the walls caved in on him. Luckily rain put the fire out moments later, but the damage was done." Hermione shot him a quick glance but he couldn't find words to add, the whole situation was surreal, something taken from his nightmares; Two beautiful women quizzing him about his lack of ability to perform. He looked from Hermione to Dr Bhair but she was jotting things down on her notepad and didn't realise he was quickly descending into hell.

"I understand this happened some time ago, about ten years ago?" She continued when Fred numbly nodded. "And are you able to have an erection at all?"

__

Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly and Fred could bet she was questioning her judgment in joining him in the examination room.

__

Oh well,

Fred thought to himself. _Might as well enjoy myself. _

"Well I can get hard. Hermione performs these hot little strip shoes. And what this girl can do with her mouth…" He reached over to slap Hermione's thigh, giving it an affectionate rub. Hermione blushed brilliantly red and Fred resisted the urge to give her a smug little smile. Instead he adopted a dejected demeanour. "Alas, nothing she does can keep me that way. It's been the same for ten years. We've tried everything. Porn, oral, threesomes, ana-"

"Yes, the doctor can well imagine the scope of things we've tried," Hermione interrupted, her voice a little shrill. She laughed awkwardly. "I think it's safe to say that your problem needs medical intervention. Honestly, we haven't looked into anything like that yet."

Fred couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped when he saw the doctor write down what Hermione had interrupted. Hermione glared at him and mouthed, 'child.' He allowed himself the smile he had denied moments before.

"I presume you had tests when you were first injured, what did they show?"

Fred and Hermione looked blankly at each other. Everything the magical tests had shown up, had been healed. According to the healer, there was no reason he shouldn't be able to perform.

"There was no reason that could be found," Hermione said eventually. "Aside from a slight limp, he's perfectly healthy."

Bhair's brow furrowed in thought. "Okay, we'll order some tests and I'm going to prescribe you some Viagra." She turned to her computer, pulling up several documents and printing them out. She explained when and how often to take the Viagra, the side effects. "I'll give you this information sheet to take home. Do you have any questions?"

"No," Hermione answered quickly. "We've looked into it before, but Fred didn't like the thought of putting chemicals into his body." Bhair paused in signing her name to the various print outs and Hermione attempted to backtrack. "But I think he's ready to try anything at this stage, aren't you Fred?" Hermione smiled tightly and nodded slightly.

"Yes, yes I am," Fred answered slowly, hoping his confusion didn't show.

__

What the hell is Viagra?

He didn't quite understand but whatever it was, there was no way he was putting it in his body.

The doctor continued her signing. When she was done, she handed the pages over, explaining where to go for the various tests she wanted done and what was involved. Fred battled to keep his expression neutral. Finally, Bhair bid them farewell and Fred resisted the urge to run from the room.

Hermione paid for the appointment and they left the building in silence, Hermione shooting him many anxious glances.

They finally reached Hermione's car and Fred calmly got into the car, placing the papers in the glove box.

Hermione bit her lip, waiting for an explosion similar to one his brother had displayed the week before - one she'd refused to discuss again, avoiding George in subject and in presence completely.

"How angry are you?" she ventured finally.

"Very," Fred said, not looking it at all. "We haven't actually tried anal at all."

Hermione glared at him before starting the car. She turned up the radio, drowning out his laughter.

"That is not funny. I'm only trying to help."

Fred wiped his eyes and once again placed his hand on Hermione's leg, as a friend this time. "I know. But I am telling you this right now, I'm not going for these tests," Fred declared.

"We'll see," Hermione responded, already planning arguments.

"And whatever this Viagra is, I'm not taking that either."

Hermione smiled. "Okay." _We'll see, _she silently added.


	5. Chapter 5

She had never felt so low in her life. Devious plans involving Fred and Viagra aside, she had lost all her focus. These last couple of weeks since she had had her 'sit down' with George had been the lowest of her life. She had never before failed in her personal life so utterly and miserably.

Hermione listlessly flicked through the pages on the history of house elves book she was writing. After nearly ten years in the Department of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, she had felt it was necessary to add a more truthful history to the list of propaganda available.

But she couldn't concentrate! Images of George's angry face and Fred's pitying one floated through her mind. Her head banged against the desk where her pages were spread. She paused a moment before banging it a couple of times more. A knock at the door interrupted her. She lifted her head, a page stuck to her forehead and looked a her clock. It was just after midnight.

Hermione peeled the errant paper off her head and went to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked. She knew only a very power witch or wizard could breech her wards against her will, but she lived in a muggle apartment block and had to go through the muggle motions.

"It's George." His deep voice travelled through the door, sending shivers down her spine.

She was in her pyjamas and though George had seen her thusly attired many times she still cast a critical eye over her self and her living room, pausing for a moment on her paper scattered desk in the corner. Deciding there was nothing she could do about it without dashing across the room to her wand, she opened the door.

They stood silently for a moment before Hermione cleared her throat and invited him in.

"Would you like a drink?" Hermione asked. George shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the back of her lounge chair.

"Thank you, no."

They were being so formal, as if they'd never met, let alone been friends for fifteen years.

Hermione burned with renewed humiliation, her throat thick, unable speak.

"I'm sorry," George said. "My answer is still no, but I am sorry. I have to go." He grabbed his coat and was gone, as abruptly as he came. Hermione bit her lip, fighting tears and went back to her desk. She picked up her pen then put it down again. She breathed in deeply, one last vain attempt to keep control before succumbing to the tears.

* * *

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Hermione said to Fred, taking the cup of tea he offered her. They were at the Burrow for Mr Weasley's birthday party. They had arrived early and were sitting under the marquee where the party was to be held, avoiding Mrs Weasley. "I've turned into a crying, distracted miserable bitch. Yesterday, I yelled at my secretary. Poor little Mrs Potts. Have you seen her lately? She weighs about seventy-five pounds. Who have I become?"

Fred laughed and stirred a generous splash of firewhiskey into his tea. He was starting the party early, apparently.

"You've become a woman, a typical woman. I knew it would happen one day."

Hermione shook her head at him. "You're a little bit sexist, aren't you?'

Fred laughed. "A little bit."

"You are no help at all."

Hermione sipped her tea and stared off into the fields beyond the Burrow's garden walls. What was she going to do now? Give up? Move on? Choose someone else? She wanted a baby. She yearned for it. It may have been a recent desire, only developing in the last year, but it went deep and it was very real to her. It was not a passing fancy. Neither was her wish for George to be the father. She had ignored all of Fred's suggestions and plans on how to bring George around, determined that she was not going to 'trap' him like Lavender had tried to do, but maybe it was time to try a little subtle persuasion.

* * *

George had arrived early for his father's party. He'd wanted a quiet chat with his mother. He found her in the kitchen, bustling about. Her bright red hair was streaked though with gray in places, but her plump face remained unlined save for the laugh lines around her eyes.

"George, love, you're here early," she said, giving him a quick, floury kiss before turning back to the cakes she was making. Three spoons and bowls mixed by themselves while his mother worked the fourth herself.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something. Someone, actually," George confessed.

"Oh?" Molly looked interested but didn't stop her mixing. She waited silently for George to continue.

"Hermione. I wanted to talk to you about Hermione and her… plans." Surely Hermione had talked to his mother about it. Who knew more about babies then his mother.

"Well, I think it's a great idea. Of course Fred is helping her."

Jealousy tightened his gut unexpectedly. It had been many years since he'd been jealous of his twin.

"Fred is helping her?" George asked. Why hadn't Fred told him? And how? How could they even do it? As far as he knew, Fred couldn't do _that_. In alienating Hermione, had he alienated his brother, too?

"Of course, remember he helped Neville last year."

"What?" George was thoroughly confused now. "What are you talking about?"

His mother stopped mixing and turned to George. "What are _you _talking about?"

"The baby, what else?"

"The house Hermione plans to buy. What baby?"

_Shit. _He'd done it now.

His mother looked at him strangely before turning to the window where, though it, he could see Hermione and Fred laughing under the marquee, drinking tea.

"Hermione's having a baby?" Molly's eyes brimmed with tears and she wiped them on her apron, smearing flour across her cheeks. She smiled at George, a proud look on her face, one he hadn't seen her give him since he'd told her about Lavender's 'pregnancy'. "A baby with Fred," she continued. The jealousy flared anew, a little hurt and anger mixed in. Those emotions could be the only reason for what came out of his mouth next, certainly not guilt for the way he'd treated Hermione or the odd romantic thought he'd had about her over the last ten year. It had nothing to do with that, he tried to convince himself.

"Not with Fred," he heard himself saying. "With me."


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a long day and an even longer night. George kicked off his shoes and eased back into the comfort of his bed. He was too exhausted to even bother undressing so he just lay across the covers fully dressed. After he had explained to his mother that he and Hermione were only in the very early stages of trying and that no one knew about their relationship save Fred, he had extracted a desperate promise from her not to mention it to anyone. Not his father, not any of his siblings, especially not Hermione.

Despite the fact that she'd agreed, he had still spent the rest of the evening running around, intercepting his mother whenever she turned in Hermione's direction and watching Hermione for any hint that she had discovered what he had done. He hardly had a moment to think straight, trying to concentrate on so many different things at once. He had finally felt safe to leave after Hermione and Fred had left shortly before midnight, much to his mother's confusion. She had demanded to know why Hermione wasn't leaving with him. George had muttered something about not rousing suspicions. If she hadn't been overjoyed by the prospect of more grandchildren he didn't doubt that he would have been tied to some chair and interrogated. He had deliberatley avoided - as best he could - thoughts on just why he had spent the night running around like a mand man. Now he gratefully let his mind go blank, a trait he had perfected years ago and he sank blissfully into sleep.

* * *

Flood. God was punishing her for wanting to have a baby out of wedlock. Her apartment was flooded and the large amount of people evacuating her building for the night to stay with family and friends allowed her no recourse but to do the same. If she had stayed while everyone left it would raise suspicions. Magic couldn't help her. Gathering a few essentials in a bag and, cursing faulty Muggle plumbing, Hermione joined the throng of people pouring out into the streets, waiting for lifts or hailing taxi's. A few headed to the cars and Hermione was one of them.

She hardly ever used her car. More often than not it sat in the street for weeks at a time, untouched, until the contents of Hermione's kitchen dwindled to nothing or she travelled out of the city to see her family. They preferred she visit them by Muggle means and Hermione would rather drive herself than take the train. But it wasn't to her parents she was headed now, it was to her second home; the Burrow.

* * *

George stirred in his sleep and rolled over, burrowing deeper into his pillow, trying to ignore the knocking in his head. No, wait, the knocking was coming from the door. He dragged his wrist in front of his face and read the blurry numbers on his watch; 3.23 am.

Groaning, George lurched out of bed, stumbling through his apartment to the front door.

"Who is it?" he demanded, wand at the ready. Why, though, he did not know. No enemy he knew of knocked.

"It's me," Hermione said through the door.

George's heart rose into his throat then sunk down to his stomach leaving him feeling sick. Warily he opened the door, trying to gauge her mood. It wasn't good.

"What have you done?" she demanded and pushed her way past him. George closed the door behind her, banging his head against it a couple of times. He turned around to see Hermione pacing around this apartment. She had turned on the lights and George couldn't deny her beauty when her mood was piqued like this. If he was going to go through was her insane scheme of turning them into parents he might as well admit that she was beautiful, even if he did only to himself.

"Imagine my surprise," she began, turning on him, eyes flashing, "when after my entire apartment building floods, I drive first out of London, then leaving my car in a dodgy parking garage in the middle of the night, I Apparate to the Burrow, wake your parents, seek refuge and then, then I'm told something by your mother that came and I'm sure you will agree, as bit of a shock. Just a little one." She laughed.

He knew what was coming. Damn his big mouth and curse his mother's enthusiasm.

"Hermione -" he began but she cut him off.

"'Congratulations, Hermione!' she said, 'George asked me not to say anything but I just can't help myself. A baby! I'm so excited.'" Hermione imitated his mother precisely. His lips quirked but he quickly tamped down his humour.

She finally sat down and before he could raise his arms, she threw a cushion at his head.

"Ow," he said. Hermione smiled but it faded quickly. He moved across the room to sit down on the couch next to her.

"What does this mean?" she asked and she had every right to, he just didn't have an answer yet. He knew he was going to say yes, but he just couldn't get the words out, couldn't get his head around it. He was still so unsure.

He shook his head. Sighed, shrugged, anything but gave her the answers he didn't have.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. Fuck! I fucked up so bad, Hermione. I'm sorry." She flinched at his language but sat still. Now it was George's turn to stand and pace. "It just came out. I just said it. We were talking about you and she thought you were with Fred and it just came out. I'm sorry."

Her face was unreadable, he didn't have a single clue what she was feeling. She had been angry but now her face was just blank.

What was he going to do? What were they going to do? He had committed to it now. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn't in good honour back out now. He was going to be a father and Hermione was going to be the mother to his child. He pulled at his hair, still pacing, while Hermione just sat silently, watching him.

George glanced at her. How calm, how collected she seemed now that she had vented at him. He was sure her insides must be in turmoil if his were anything to go by but she just sat there, watching him with her big brown eyes. Beautiful eyes really, George thought throwing another glance her way. She barely moved except for her eyes that tracked his progress across the room.

"Stop watching me!' he demanded. "I'm going to do it! I just need to think!"

"Sorry," she murmured lowering her gaze to her lap.

He was growing more panicked by the moment. The weight of his decision - be it made with conscious or subconscious intent - was pressing heavily on him and he could feel himself rocketing out of control. His pacing picked up speed before screeching to a halt as Hermione stood and moved in front of him.

"Calm," she whispered before putting one hand on his chest, the other at the back of his head. She rose onto her toes and, pulling his head down to meet hers, she pressed her lips against his.

After the shock wore off, which took a moment or two, George's arms came up to wrap around Hermione's waist and he kissed her back. She tasted so good, of his father's birthday cake and oranges. He pulled her against his body and she melted against him. Desire flared and sparked between them, and blissfully his mind went blank of everything but the witch in his arms, the taste of her and how he could manoeuvre her around the couch, to his bedroom. Her mouth opened beneath his and he met her tongue with his, fighting for control before letting her take the lead.

He was still trying to think of a suave way to ask Hermione to his room when she broke the kiss and took his hand, leading him there on her own.

He smiled saucily at her and followed eagerly. She put her hand up to stop him.

"We're just going to talk," she warned him.

He smirked. "We could have talked out here."

Her cheeks blushed prettily. "Well, maybe a bit of play. Then talk." She looked at him sternly a moment before a smile broke across her face and she tugged on his hand, pulling him into the room.

They stood in the darkness together for a moment before George cupped her cheek in his rough hand. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his fingertips. He drew her face up to his, pausing a moment with her sweet breath washing over his face before lowering his head the rest of the distance and touched his lips to hers.

Hermione stood there, letting George ravish her mouth and her body rejoiced. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest and her hand on George's neck could feel his pulse racing beneath her fingers.

_A baby, a baby, a baby. George, George, George,_ her heart cried. Her body shivered as he pushed her back onto his bed. He broke the kiss as she sat on the mattress.

"I'll be right back," he said.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a protection potion."

Her brow furrowed. "Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" Hermione asked.

"Of what?" George asked in return.

"Of making a baby," Hermione answered, her heart sinking.

"You want to start tonight?"

She sighed and rose from the bed, heading back into the living room.

"Hermione, wait." George followed her.

"Look, George, I don't want to marry you. After I get pregnant I don't imagine myself moving in with you and spending rainy days making love, eating food naked in bed -"

George did now.

"- and being a couple. I like you, you're a good friend but we need to be sensible about this. When we have sex and it will be sex, we won't make love, I will be doing it to get pregnant. I don't want to complicate things."

She picked up her bag from where she had dropped it by the couch.

"Owl me when you fully come to terms with this. I don't want to rush you. I'll be at Fred's." She went to him and kissed him on the cheek. "And thank you. You don't realise just what you will be giving me."

With that she exited the room, leaving him with the taste of her in his mouth and a tight throbbing in his pants. There was no denying he wanted Hermione and he would have her, he decided. Not just in his bed, but in his life. His spaciously home suddenly seemed very small and very empty. His mind cleared and he knew what he wanted. He wanted Hermione as not just as the mother to his kid but as _his _woman. He wanted to be the one she went to when her home flooded or her car broke down, not that he knew anything about cars. Most of all he didn't want her running to Fred. It seemed that heady emotion, jealousy, was again rearing its ugly head and steering his decisions. But he didn't mind this time because, like Hermione had demanded of him, he was finally calm.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Whats this? An update? You're joking. Jack doesn't update anymore. Well yes, yes she does. It has been almost a year - hangs head in shame - but yes, this is a bona fide update. I hope you enjoy it. **

* * *

George sat studying the documents, trying to pinpoint what was wrong with them. It was a standard contract for a new supplier but there was something niggling the back of his mind telling him something was amiss. A knock at the door tore him away from his obsessive examination.

"Come in," he called wearily. Since Hermione's visit three nights ago he hadn't slept more then a couple hours of sleep a night. He hadn't seen or talked to her since.

Fred stepped through the door, a serious look on his usually jovial face.

"What now?" George sighed.

"Its about Hermione," Fred answered.

"Of course it is." She filled his thoughts at night and kept him awake, why shouldn't she also disrupt his work. He threw aside his quill which had long run ago run dry and slumped back in his seat. "She's looking for a house to buy," Fred said without preamble. "She's picking out baby names, wondering if she'll have a boy or a girl. If it will have red hair or brown. Probably auburn she's decided."

"What's your point, Fred?" George demanded, feeling guilty yet strangely empty at the same time.

"So you've told her yes? Done the deed? Because if you have, you should be doing all that with her! She should be talking about it with you, the father, not me the uncle."

"Doesn't she tell you everything?" George sneered, angry with his twin, jealous that he was missing out on all of that. "Didn't she run to you the other night and confess everything."

"She's staying with me but all she told me was that her apartment flooded." Fred raised his eyebrows waiting for George to elaborate on what he thought Hermione would have confessed.

"You weren't her first stop." George sighed and sat back up in his seat, placing his elbows on the desk, his chin in his hands. "I did tell her yes. And we started… you know."

Fred smiled slightly. "Yes, I can imagine."

"But then I did something without thinking and we had a bit of a argument and she left." George shrugged.

Fred watched his brother, the brother he knew better then any other person on this earth. He could see how hard George was trying to seem nonchalant but really he was nonplussed.

"What did you argue about?" Fred queried.

"It was nothing." George shrugged again. "She was saying she didn't want to be in a relationship. She just wanted to do the deed and, I don't know, forget it ever happened, I suppose. She just wanted me for my body," George concluded, his lips twitching.

Fred laughed. He saw it now, what was really going on.

"You like her," he said, laughing more.

"No, I don't!" George cried, a little too fiercely. "I just don't want to be used like a stud. I mean, she could at least let me take her dinner."

"You stupid, stupid man," Fred said, not unkindly.

"Its not that stupid. She's a woman, you would think she would want a bit of romance," George grumbled.

"Of course she does, but this is Hermione we're talking about. Smart, sensible, logical Hermione. Think about why she would want such a passionate, intimate beautiful thing like the conception of a child turned into a mission, something to be accomplished."

"Why?" George said, not bothering to think about it at all. If Fred had the answers to the questions that had been swirling around his head, keeping him up at night, he didn't want to pussyfoot about.

"She likes you!" Fred shouted at his brother, suddenly angry. George was being offered everything that Fred would never have and his brother was behaving like a spoilt child who was given books when what he really wanted was a toy. They never realised how much better for you the books were. "You stupid, blind git. The girl is half in love with you. Why do you think she chose _you_? Your stunning good looks? Your charming personality? For whatever reason my best friend had decided, subconsciously maybe, that its you she wants and that terrifies her. She's nearly thirty years old and she's never lost herself to love. Crushes and flings aside, this is the first serious relationship she's been faced with and she's scared." Fred looked ready to throw something. "She's the most important thing in my fucked up life, George. I love her like she was my second sister. And you're hurting her. I know you don't mean to, you probably don't even realise you're doing it but you are. You need to decide wether you can do this and walk away or if you want to commit fully. Not just for while you two are trying or for while she's pregnant or until the child's in school. If you want any part of your child's life you need to get down on your knees and beg that woman to be with you. Tell her how you feel, tell her what you want for your lives together. Tell her you _want_ a family with her. Hermione deserves the world, the moon. If you can't give her everything, you shouldn't be giving her anything."

Fred rose and left without another word, leaving George to once again contemplate just what he was ready to give to Hermione.

He had known her for years. Watched her grow from a bossy, busy haired know-it-all, through the years where she found her place in the world, into the beautiful, confident woman she was now. He had never been ignorant to how amazing she was. It wasn't an active thought, something he oft contemplated, it was just something he accepted as fact; Hermione was amazing. She would do great things with her life, she loved fiercely and protectively, she was passionate. But he supposed, along with the thought that she was amazing, was the knowledge that she belonged to someone else. He had never given her a second thought before all this because the way he had seen it was that first she had been Ron's friend, too young and obviously crushing on his brother. Then their paths had been separated through school, war and work. By the time they collided again and Hermione had grown into someone worth his twenty year old self's time, she'd been friends with Fred, seemingly on their way to their own romance.

But now Fred was telling him that Hermione liked him. That yes, Fred loved her, but not in the way Hermione needs. That Hermione needs, of all things, George. And God damn it, he needed her too. It was the strangest sensation, like the first breath of air after years of drowning. He felt more alive, more a part of the world in the last month than he had in all the years since that fateful incident with Lavender. He thought he had been doing the smart thing, distancing himself from everything that could hurt him like that again. But he could see now just how wrong he'd been. He should have gotten back up on a different broomstick, not refused to ever fly again.

George smiled at his inelegant analogy. Hermione would be cranky if she knew she was being compared to a broomstick. His smile broadened as he thought of his fierce lady. She would fight him he knew. Fred was right, he would have to beg. She wasn't going to just say, "Oh, okay, of course we should be a proper family. Lets get married, George."

That pulled him up. Marriage. Married. Husband and wife. That would be one way to convince her. Wizards and witches married for life, not like muggles who married and divorced at the drop of a hat. Oddly, the idea didn't scare him as much as it would have only three nights ago. He wanted to be with Hermione, wanted to see her belly swell with his child, sleep beside her at night. Make a family with her. Love her. Of course he wanted to marry her.

He gave a little laugh and picked up his quill. He dipped it in the ink pot and fixed the now glaringly obvious mistake. He had spelled his name wrong.

* * *

**A/N So I hope George's thoughts and feelings weren't too rushed. Let me know what you for sticking with me despite my sporadic updating. **


End file.
